


Mount St. Mary

by FundyLive



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Lovers, My First Fanfic, Other, Slow Burn, Songfic, Sort Of, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28454778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FundyLive/pseuds/FundyLive
Summary: Boarding high school AU w/ Leviathan and reader :]] You both attend the same boarding school, you get out for winter break and end up staying at the school with only a handful of other students until the break ends. Almost definitely no smut at any point :[
Relationships: Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Other demon bros probably won't be mentioned; mostly just stealing Levi and his personality but putting him in a mostly different environment. Probably a human now too, just because I don't intend to write the fact he's a demon in anywhere? I myself go to a boarding high school so hopefully most details regarding that are pretty accurate! This is my first fic I'm posting to Ao3, plus my first fic in this fandom, but not first fic ever. Sadly, when I say that, I'm referencing shitty Warrior Cats OC fanfics from a few years ago; I'm pretty rusty but hope to warm up a little as I progress. Feel free to drop any critique in the comments; always very happy to receive it!! Tysm for reading :]]

Being on the student council is difficult work! On its own, that statement still applies well, but when one of the highest-ranking members is such a big slacker it gets even more so. I mean, the guy got in freshman year, and for a while, you saw him attend the meetings with good consistency, but now that it’s two years later and you can’t even vote him off because his grades haven’t yet dropped below the minimum requirement, he pretty much just blows off every meeting and expects one of your peers to email or text him the rundowns. It has to be some elaborate, shitty scheme on his end, you think; since the school staff is committed to letting student council “run freely” (read: not bother with them unless they need something and they’re too lazy to do it themselves), it’s pretty obvious he just skips meetings to do whatever else, and then feigns an inability to work on the projects discussed because he’s “not included enough in meetings” while knowing that turning to a teacher or staff member pretty much isn’t an option for everyone else who may not want him around anymore.

It does make you wonder, though: when did that switch flip for him? You only just joined the council at the beginning of this year, but you knew from past school-wide events that he was active for freshman year and a good, maybe half of sophomore year; plus, you don’t just get as highly ranked as him from being around for longer than most; of course it does assure you move up a little, naturally, but he was in the top three most powerful council members, as the head creative advisor. This meant he had full and almost irrefutable control over every piece of decoration and visual aesthetics at any sort of event that the student council so much as had a decent hand in. You saw in previous years how hard he went, planning color schemes and acquiring materials, sketching concepts; now he probably only does 1 ½ of those, being color schemes and, to an extent, concept art. The issue is whenever he plans an event now, he never specifies. Before it wasn’t an issue because he was constantly on the scene and actively helping shape his vision, but now that he’s not, a few events have ended up lackluster; and he’ll normally be the first to act remorseful over it in the council group chat.

That made for a nice cherry on the cake for you. After the third annual school-wide fundraiser event ended up pretty much undecorated due to how vague and, frankly, shit his instructions were, you’ve finally taken the fall into absolutely hating his guts. Before it was a little hesitant because, hey! You had never really met him! Maybe he had some underlying issue or responsibility to deal with that just happened to conflict with every single student council event, and it was everyone else being shitty towards him for expecting him to work anyway. But really… He didn’t even respond to any of the messages you sent him at any point during the last two days you’ve spent setting this up. It was during varying and extended time periods, as well! He had more than ample time and opportunity for it to end up better, but that never really happened.

Solemnly walking back to your dorm, up the cramped staircase you use for the sole reason of no one else doing so, your phone vibrates in your shirt pocket. It’s a text message in the student council group chat. “Really… Could you guys have done any worse on the fundraiser? Was it my fault? Did I do something to upset you all?”

“You could’ve been on-site with us or given us clearer concept art, first of all.”

“Really? If my work wasn’t up to par, why couldn’t you have told me that when I first sent it over Monday?”

“Levi, you seem to be working under the same assumptions that what you turned in would be fine, if you were still active here and working with student council. But you haven’t shown up once this entire year, and we were initially a little worried about where you went, but at this point, we’re just upset and tired. We’re going to demote you if you can’t pull it together over winter break.”

No response.

Man, you’d like to think that Angelica could’ve gone a bit softer on him, but she’s just voiced every concern that’s come to make you hate Levi in the first place. Angelica is the student council president, and generally, she’s pretty nice and upbeat, but there’s a reason she was put in charge of everyone else: she’s very stern. It’s like a switch flips, one minute she’s treating you like her best friend and can’t stop talking about anything that comes to mind, but the second somebody comes along and messes up her or somebody else’s workflow she’s on you like a hound. Everybody likes her, though; maybe it’s her ability to stand up for herself while also refusing to believe anybody is inherently bad that makes her likable and as trustworthy as she is.

You’ve finally reached the door to your small, but not cramped dorm room. Rather, it’s probably better to call it cozy. You’re greeted by a small closet immediately upon entering, then turning in and to the left, you’re faced with a large, open window in front of you, your desk to your left, and your bed to your right. There’s a sheet of light fabric hanging from the ceiling at the edge of your bed; it acts as a makeshift curtain, for an added sense of privacy and security when you need to sleep or relax. Normally the dorms are much louder than you’d be used to at home; people in the hallways, or even down in the common spaces find it difficult to keep a good voice level, you’ve found. This applies to pretty much any time of day, but especially early mornings before class and any time near or during dinner. Even though classes have only just gotten out, the dorms are still loud, but for a reason separate from mealtimes.

The last full school day before winter break has just come to a close, and everybody is packing up to go back home for the next three weeks. Mostly everyone, I should say; not you, and maybe a select five-ish other people are staying behind in the dorms for winter break. You’ll be in charge of making your own meals, in order to give some free time for the meal staff, and you’ll still have to be in bed by a certain time to appease the dorm parents that are staying behind as well, but you’ll have free range over school property (as long as you don’t break or tamper with anything), plus no more noisy mornings and late afternoons. The janitorial staff is still coming down for a smaller number of hours to keep the school buildings in check and keep them open for remaining students to roam relatively free, or access utilities like the library. You’re not really sure what you’ll be doing over this time, however.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this right after the first chapter went out because I had it pre-written, may take a little to get out the third especially if I go back to school before I can finish it, but!! hopefully not!! Forgot to mention it last time but the reason for the fic title and the "songfic" tag is because it's loosely based around the song Mount St. Mary by Oolong. tysm for reading!! :]

Going to bed with no work despite the next day being a Wednesday is very calming, and not a common experience between regular school work and other responsibilities you’ve chosen to take up. Something was strange this night, though; normally, you’re used to hearing the voices in the halls fade naturally and that being an indicator that you should be finishing your work and getting to bed soon. That wasn’t there this time, as almost every student had hightailed it out of there just last night; a whole hoard of people (a few separate stampedes at different hours of the day, actually) passed by last night, hauling their suitcases and carry-on, taking on a happy little gait as they made their way down the sidewalk alleyway leading to the line of school vans waiting to take them all off to the airport. The last few left late at night, or early the next morning. Now, on the morning of the first day of winter break, it’s just you, about 3 dorm parents total, and a handful of students who you know you aren’t familiar with.

Waking up and getting ready is easy; albeit a little irritating for you, because your eyes still hurt and your limbs feel more numb than usual, having just woken up. For almost all of it, you’re on autopilot, it isn’t until you’re about to step down the hallway towards the bathroom that you realize it’s much quieter than normal, and only then do you feel awake; in the soothing light of a lack of responsibility. You grab your phone off your desk and continue down to the bathroom to finish getting ready, then head down the same cramped stairs and out the doors, intent on making it to the dining hall. You realize you could’ve taken the normal, much more airy staircase that you typically avoid due to overcrowding, but discern that you could do it any of the other 20 days you have until everyone starts flooding back.

Entering the dining hall, it’s sparsely populated; mimicking your daily routine, you grab something small from the minifridge propped up on one of the counters and take a seat at whatever table is nearest, and then begin scanning the room. A bunch of people you probably couldn’t really recognize even if you were familiar with them, occasionally dotting the room and spread out between the normally packed-in tables. Your phone vibrates with a text from Angelica to the student council group chat. “Hey guys, the art department is asking that we return the supplies in the council room to their classroom. Is anybody on campus still?” You chime in, saying you still are. “Great! U may need extra help, we borrowed some folding tables and they’re super heavy. Is there anyone else still there?” A somewhat familiar dragon picture pops up at the bottom of the chat, indicating typing.

“I am” is all the message reads. You don’t really know how to react. It’s not like you’ve ever interacted with Levi before; you recall him being in your English class, but you’re pretty sure you’ve never even made eye contact with him. Either way, you still need to finish your breakfast, and seeing as the art department is probably mostly gone as well, it’s not like you’re in a huge rush to return supplies to them that they won’t be needing for the next three weeks.

Collecting your trash and belongings, you make your way to the trash cans then out the door to the cold alleyway between school buildings you had used to enter previously. Walking down the rough sidewalk, past windows only occasionally lit but always empty of life, and eventually, past small lawns of grass, stuck in place from the recently cold weather freezing with the morning dew, you finally find yourself standing at the big, old doors to the building holding both the art department and club rooms (among other things). Pushing them open with a creak, none of the lights are on like you’re familiar with seeing; either way, you make your way up the sturdy old wooden stairs.

On the second floor, you step off onto the short, ugly carpet they must have installed a good handful of decades before. It definitely looks like it, telling by the style. Walking down the same thin hallway on your path to the council room, you notice something setting it apart from all the other rooms you had passed before; the door is open, and the lights on. Walking up and peeking through the doorway, you notice the culprit: a lanky, purple-haired boy. He’s silently stacking and moving the boxes of supplies to make for a shorter trip when it finally comes to move them between your current location and the art department’s storage room, and he seems to acknowledge that you’re there without really wanting to. That is to say, he ignores you.

Seeing as how Levi was the only other person to volunteer, and how this boy is a total stranger to you, you figure out who it is surprisingly quick. Suddenly feeling nervous around the person you had come to hate, you silently approach and begin taking some of the smaller and lighter boxes into your hands to carry down the hall and further up the stairs, while your “enemy” continues his work, shifting and digging under tables for any art supplies potentially lost during work hours a few days prior. When you reach the spacious closet, you begin jimmying the door open with limited movement in your hand, preoccupied with not dropping the boxes you’re already carrying, and you’re greeted with pitch blackness when you finally get it open. Plopping the boxes at your feet, you hastily run your hand along the wall to find the light switch, which promptly flicks on after only a few seconds. Organizing the boxes onto the shelves you make your way back down to the council room.

It’s a few more trips of this before you’re left just with the heavy tables Angelica had warned you about. While you and Levi were taking trips moving the smaller boxes, you had never really interacted outside of passing each other while one was going and the other was coming back. But now, you’re both caught in the council room, clearly too uncomfortable to exchange any words. You walk up and begin hoisting the nearest slab of a foldable table by its far left end, hoping Levi will get the hint and begin hoisting the other. It takes him a little to notice exactly what’s going on, but by the time you’ve fully risen to your feet again he’s hurrying over, clearly a little embarrassed from not realizing your intent earlier. You begin hoisting it off the ground and out the door, small “watch out”s muttered between you any time the other is at risk of running into something behind them.

You’re finally onto the fourth and final table, ready to plop it down on top of the pile and skedaddle off to whatever you had planned next. As your hands stretch out to keep the legs from folding out at the last minute and to keep the stack from collapsing, you accidentally graze the hand of your compatriot. He jolts, just a little, but pulls his hand away fully and very noticeably becomes redder in the face. Once it’s placed down, he hurries out the door with a small “see you” left in his wake. Walking back to the stairwell, you walk past the hallway containing the council room to realize the door is still open and the lights are still very much on. He hadn’t even bothered locking it up before leaving.

You really do hate him.


End file.
